


Back Float

by RosiePaw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosiePaw/pseuds/RosiePaw





	Back Float

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Keeping Pace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/113827) by [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin). 



John was _not_ pouting as he watched Rodney floating on his back, his face (well-daubed with homemade sunscreen) turned up to the clear blue sky.

Ronon could float on his back, although he preferred diving and swimming long distances underwater, surfacing in unexpected locations.  He’d made Rodney shriek three times and counting today.

Teyla could float on her back and seemed to consider it a type of aquatic meditation.  At the moment, however, she was occupied in teaching Torren how to dog-paddle.

But John, well, in John’s experience, staying on the surface was like staying on his CO’s good side.  There might be a brief period at the beginning in which the situation appeared to be working out, but sooner or later, things would start to slip.  In the water, the first thing to slip was always John’s feet.  Not that they were particularly large for his height, but forced to remain motionless, they eventually sank.  After that, it was all over as first John’s ankles, then his calves, knees, thighs and finally his entire body followed his feet.

John _could_ stay on the surface if he kept his feet in constant motion, waving them gently up and down, but he had about as much success in maintaining a truly relaxed, motionless float as he had in maintaining a relaxed, motionless meditation state.

Which would have been fine, except that Rodney was, in his own way, as much a creature of motion as John himself.  Rodney’s hands, his mouth, his _mind_ were always moving.  And yet there was Rodney, floating blissfully after besting both John and (narrowly) Ronon in an impromptu three-out-of-five swim meet.

John lay back in the water and stared upwards, trying to keep his feet afloat by sheer force of will.  When he felt a change in the currents around him, he suspected one of Ronon’s sneak attacks and jerked upwards, only to see Rodney treading water next to him.

“Relax, moron, I’m trying to help!  Lie back... no, not like someone’s about to fly overhead and _shoot_ you, lie back as if you’re _relaxing_, I know you understand the concept, think of the water as a wall and _lean_ on it.”

John felt oddly vulnerable, stretched out in front of Rodney on his back, wearing only his swimming trunks.  He tried to ignore that, to let himself lean on the water.  It worked for almost twenty seconds before he felt his feet start to go.

But Rodney slipped a supporting arm underneath John’s ankles.

“I’ve got you,” he said, “Just relax.  I’m not going anywhere.”

And underneath the clear blue sky, John floated.


End file.
